


Insane Like Me

by BlackCanary0001



Series: Song-fics [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, But does not get one, Dark, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Insanity, Jason Todd Angst, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Mental Health Issues, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Sooooooo dark, Suicide, The Author Regrets Everything, Trauma, this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCanary0001/pseuds/BlackCanary0001
Summary: Jason doesn't know what's worse, the laughter in his head or the phantom pain, but it sure as hell leaves him feeling like hell (dead, really, and isn't that ironic?) He feels giggles rising up in his throat, staring at the bottle of booze... isn't insanity a nice thing? Everything just stops hurting, nothing matters anymore. He think, maybe, he understands the clown now.
Series: Song-fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129007
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Insane Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title/Song: "Gasoline" by Halsey

Red lips and green hair and a broken boy. Then blackness. Then green water and then...

_Are you insane like me?_

He grabbed his hair, pulling, _pulling_. Maybe, if he pulled hard enough he would _forget_ , forget the flashes of red, the insane laughter, _laughter, laughter, pain..._ He remembered the pain, like an iron branded into his skin.

_Been in pain like me?_

Pulling even harder, pulling until sharp pain shot through his scull. Maybe, if the pain was enough, he would forget. Forget the sound of metal soaring through the air, the sound of maniac laughter, giggling, gloating. The sound of pain. He learned to like pain, to _know_ pain, but pain from his own hands was different, was better, was _control_. He needed control (he had been at another's mercy for too long).

_Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me?_

Pain didn't work. Why? Pain worked back then. He'd forgotten. He'd just wanted out. Maybe forgetting in a different way. Drinking, drinking until he was gone. Gone, forgetting. But it didn't work (nothing did, the voices in his head were too loud to drown out). Pain. Pain and insane laughter, gloating at his _pain_. A flash of green. The taste of alcohol on his tongue.

_Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?_

Screaming. Yelling. No pain, _please_. A crash of shattering glass, the smell of alcohol and shards of glass embedded into his hands. Pain, but real pain, no memories, not this time. A smile. So maybe pain did work. The laughter inside his head subsided. Fight fire with fire and pain with pain. More shards of glass, more blood, more tears, more pain. Anything but memories. _Bliss_.

_Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?_  
_Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?_

But it didn't last forever.   
Empty bottles littered the floor, pill after pill until he felt sick to the stomach and could barely keep his eyes open. Good. No pain. Just darkness. More pills, more empty bottles on the floor. Less pain.

_Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?_

Blood seeped out of his skin, coating his arms in red. Beautiful red. He remembered red lips twisting into a gruesome smile. No red. Red bad. Red pain. No red!

_Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?_

There was no one there. No people, just him and his thought. And laughter, the painful, tormenting laughter, talking about him, talking and talking and talkingtalkingtalking! Make it stop! ( _Please_ )

_Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?_

Red all over his face, a red tear rolling down his chin. And then pain. He remembered the pain. He wanted it to stop.   
It didn't.

_And all the people say_  
_You can't wake up, this is not a dream_

Death. He had been dead, he knew. He could feel it. But not anymore. Now he's just suffering. It felt surreal. Like a dream, like a nightmare.

_You're part of a machine, you are not a human being_

Pale skin and a red smile, animalistic features twisted and cruel. He needed to get away. But he couldn't, no escaping, just pain. He knew pain by now. He did. And it scared him.

_With your face all made up, living on a screen_  
_Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline_

Burning, burning, burning fire. Burning _hatred_. Burning _pain_. He knew burning. He had burned.

_I think there's a flaw in my code_

And tears were red and falling down and the eye-stinging smell of alcohol made him gag. It surrounded him, suffocated him.

_These voices won't leave me alone_

_**Laugh, little Robin.**_ He winced. He remembered _that_ voice. _**Why so serious?**_ _Please, stop._ Quiet, searing tears.

_Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold_

He shivered, ice dancing through his veins. He was so cold. So, _so_ cold. No one there to keep him warm. Just coldness and a red smile.

_Are you deranged like me?_

He heard voices, felt fingers, saw red, felt metal, smelled blood and tasted ash. But there was nothing there. Just darkness. Void.

_Are you strange like me?_

His numb fingers fumbled for something, sharp and cold, smooth and reassuring. Glass.

_Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?_

The sharp edges cut into his fingers, but he didn't feel pain. No pain. Not anymore. Just numb. Numbness and darkness. And red smiles. He didn't like red smiles.

_Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?_

A storm of blood. His blood, the blood of others. On his hands? Why? The red smile, it had killed the kid. The innocence. The childhood. The _Robin_. It had killed it all!

_Pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?_

No, he himself killed the kid. The innocence. The childhood. The Robin. Stupid. He was stupid and dumb and he killed it all. He did, not the red smile.

_And all the people say_  
_You can't wake up, this is not a dream_

But he felt the blows raining down on him. He had felt it. Now there was nothing. Just the growing cold and the numbness. No pain. That was good.

_You're part of a machine, you are not a human being_

His eyes. The devil's eyes. The devil had green hair. And a red smile. He shuddered and curled in on himself. No red smiles, please.

_With your face all made up, living on a screen_  
_Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline_

No red... He couldn't remember. No red what? He was so tired. His eyes... were they closed? He couldn't remember. Everything was fuzzy. Nothing mattered.

_I think there's a flaw in my code_  
_These voices won't leave me alone_

No laughter anymore. Why were there no laughter? He couldn't hear anything. No breathing. Was he breathing? No sound. Was that good? Or bad?

_Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold_

He felt the numbness spread and the blood leave his veins. He felt drowsy... He smiled. So there was a way to escape. And he'd found it. No pain. Just bliss.   
A sigh escaped his lips. A relieved sigh. The last sigh, the last intake of breath. From now on, there was only blackness and this time, it would be for eternity.


End file.
